Dragon Rider's Legacy
by Lia79.dreamer
Summary: Constructive criticism welcome, flames not. Don't like don't read. Arya is an old Dragon Rider, known throughout Middle-Earth. This is the story about her adventures and trials as the darkness grows and her destiny as protector calls her to arms to defeat this evil once and for all. One of the first stories, please give it a chance and REVIEW
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Shire**

It was a good day to be outside. Sunny, with white wisps of clouds, so warm and welcoming, with little to no wind down here on the road it was a good day indeed. I could tell that up there with the clouds, the wind held, soft, perfect for flying. Flying. It has been so long since I last taken to the skies with Fírnen. So long since I've been all alone in my own head. I missed the soothing presence of my dragon always here with me. And I still felt guilty as hell for being alive while he was dead. Three thousand years I wandered, but the grief, the pain was still as fresh as if the Last Alliance has fought against Sauron just yesterday.

"Arya?" Gandalf's voice broke through my heavy thoughts.

"Yes, my friend," I smiled slightly at him, reigning in my stallion, Grey Wind, and riding closer to his seat on his cart. He studied my face for a moment and sighed.

"You cannot let go," he murmured, watching me. I shook my head. He sighed again. "I remember how bad it was when I met you, and it has been a while already. You have gotten better."

I smiled a little brighter, "It's all Bilbo's fault. Him and his hobbitish ways. I'm glad we are coming here again, Gandalf. Hobbits are such innocent and funny creatures. It soothes my heart."

"And Frodo? I know he is quite fond of you."

I smiled wider still. "I think I have corrupted this one worse than you and Bilbo together. I like the little lad. He reminds me so much of my brother, Roran…" I trailed off, deep in thought. I remembered his funeral. I came back from my travels when I saw him on his death bed. I would regularly check on him, and I would always send him little gifts for his wife, Katrina, and their children. I met the little rascals and they were quite fond of me, their dragon riding aunt. I came rushing back and found his sons already adults, his wife an old woman that was not so far from death herself, and him lying there on his bed…

They always understood my need to travel. They knew how much pain Alagaesia held for me, everything reminded me of some struggle or another. It all always came down to what I have lost there. And now… he smiled wide, seeing me there.

"Arya, my dearest little sister…" I moved closer, leaning over him, softly hugging his frail body. "Still haven't changed a day…" he murmured looking me over fondly. I smiled a watery smile. There was scratching at the window and one of his sons opened it to let Fírnen stick his nose in. Roran laughed breathily. We all smiled at the dragon who has gotten bigger still. Roran went still and I knew Fírnen was talking to him. I didn't mind being left out. "I'm so glad you have come back to say goodbye…" Roran grasped my hand. "I know how much it pains you to be here, how much blood you've shed, how much you've lost… All for us, Alagaesians, to have peace again…" he was fading I could tell. Everyone gathered around him, seeing as we all knew the end drew closer and he would want all of us close to him.

"I love you, brother," I whispered, cradling his hand to my chest, tears falling slowly. "I'm sorry I have been so distant… I - "

He just squeezed my hand and smiled. "You always come back. Arya, you have done enough in your life to earn yourself some happiness. I know we are just cousins, I know you've lost everyone else you held dear. You have helped the rest rebuild, made sure everyone was happy, but you. Travel makes you happy. Do me a favor, Arya. Find happiness." At his words I just cried harder and buried my face in his shoulder whispering how much I loved him, and that he was always my true brother. We all said our goodbyes before he breathed out one last time and left with a content smile on his face.

"We should be there soon, Arya," Gandalf rescued me from my mind again. I shook my head to clear it and decided to avoid my own mind and concentrate on the present. Before Fírnen's death, he helped me greatly to keep all my memories at bay. I was older, but he always insisted on protecting me, as if I was a frail flower – and in a way he was much stronger, wiser. We both knew how much destruction I was capable of, but it was always him watching out for me.

I started humming an old lullaby from my home that always soothed my nerves and always put Fírnen to sleep.

"You're late!"

Gandalf and I both reigned in our horses and turned to the person that accused us of tardiness. On the bank next to the road stood a hobbit in short pants and a white shirt, his arms crossed across his chest, his dark hair in tangled curls, a leaf sticking out the top, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

"A wizard and a Dragon Rider are never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor are they ever early. They arrive precisely when they mean to," lectured Gandalf while we all tried very hard to hold in laughter and look serious. Finally we cracked. Frodo laughed merrily jumping onto my horse, making me grab him and pull him to me. He proceeded to wrap his little arms around me in a crushing hug, while Gandalf and I chuckled at his eagerness.

"I missed you so much! Arya, you should come more often!" I patted the little hobbit's back and picked the leaf out of his hair softly.

"I missed you too, darling little one," I smiled at his curly head. I really did love the boy.

"It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf!" He let go of me and scrambled off my lap to give Gandalf a hug. I snorted in a very unladylike manner and carefully lowered the exited hobbit onto the cart. He bounced over to Gandalf, making the old man laugh again.

"I missed you, too, dear Frodo," Gandalf carefully sat the hobbit next to him and picked up the reigns. I kicked Grey Wind's flanks lightly making him start and we continued down the road. "You didn't think we'd miss your Uncle Bilbo's birthday?"

"How's is the old rascal? I hear it's going to be a party of special magnificence!" Gandalf asked Frodo as we set a leisurely pace. I chuckled, thinking about the hobbit and remembering the good times we've had travelling together.

"You know Bilbo. He's got the whole place in uproar," Frodo told us with half amused half annoyed expression.

"That should please him," Gandalf chuckled and traded a look with me. I shook my head good-naturedly.

"Half the Shire has been invited," Frodo continued, not noticing our mirth. "And the rest are turning up anyway." At that we all started laughing again, disturbing some hobbit that were working in the green field we were passing. I gave them a polite nod in greeting as we passed and headed for the bridge into the main part of the settlement.

Nothing really changed in Shire. I knew it never did, and I reveled in the stability of their life. As we rode, I tuned out Gandalf telling Frodo about life outside of Shire and instead drank in the sights – rolling green plains and hills, pretty houses and bustling life everywhere you look. After a few years of wandering in the harsh wilds of the North this was a warm and pleasant sight, although I much preferred the landscapes of Rivendell. Last time I've been through there, I barely spent there a day before the dwarves pestered me into showing them a way out towards the Lonely Mountain and the end of their and by extension my quest. They, too, were a lively bunch, Thorin's dwarves and I was sad to see that tale end.

But I have learned a long time ago that everything eventually comes to an end; and if you're brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello. My long life had been spend travelling all over the world and the three thousands of years that had passed since the Battle of Black Gates have given me as much happiness as they gave me sorrow.

"To tell you the truth," Frodo's voice brought me out of my musings after the two shared a silence, "Bilbo has been a bit odd lately." I gave Frodo a look that clearly said all he needed to know about his uncle's odd habits and Frodo elaborated. "I mean, more than usual." At that, Gandalf gave him a sideways glance as Frodo stared ahead, thinking about Bilbo. "He's taken to locking himself in his study. He spends hours and hours pouring over old maps when he thinks I'm not looking. He's up to something." Frodo finished and looked to Gandalf and me. We traded a look, both knowing full well what Bilbo was up to – it didn't take much to figure out that he wanted to leave the Shire and would likely head to Rivendell. The place Bilbo admired and thought of as a sanctuary.

Suddenly realization settled over Frodo's face and he regarded me and Gandalf with a suspicious look. I hid a smile and looked ahead, while Gandalf tried to look innocent and busied himself with looking around and puffing his pipe. "Alright, then. Keep your secrets. But I know you both have something to do with it."

"Why, Frodo," I chuckled at the amused hobbit.

Gandalf resorted to his 'how so?' expression, lifting his eyebrows almost to the brim of his great pointy hat and Frodo divulged in mock accusatory tone, "Before you came along, we Bagginses were very well thought of."

"Really?" Gandalf hid his own amusement and stared ahead, watching me maneuvering around the cart and to the front- the road has become too small for us to ride next to each other.

"Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected," Frodo explained his point. Gandalf looked at him defensively.

"If you are referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved. All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out the door," Gandalf looked to me as if asking me to confirm his story to Frodo and thus verify it.

"Don't look at me like that," I snorted. "I had no idea what was going until it was too late and the dwarves declared I was helping them. And that was that."

Frodo laughed heartily at my rebuke. "Whatever you two did or did not do, you've been officially labeled as disturbers of the peace." Gandalf hummed, largely unconcerned, just as I was.

As Frodo finished his sentence we found a confirmation of his words in a form of a hobbit that was swiping the yard in front of his home. He looked up to see who was riding past and as soon as he noticed Gandalf and I he gave us a suspicious look before noticing the covered cart and starting to outright glare.

Both Gandalf and I looked away, more amused than concerned with such hostility. It was bound to turn out an interesting few days for us both, staying in a place full of unfriendly hobbits. Although, just how unfriendly we were going to find out later, if at all. As far as I knew, they were too peaceful to really do anything about their dislike.

Further conversation was interrupted when Gandalf's cart was ambushed by children calling out to Gandalf to show them fireworks. Gandalf kept on riding for a minute with a solemn expression as the children's cries quieted and they stared after the cart in disappointment. Frodo and I gave Gandalf an amused look, counting in our heads how long he will last this time before the guilt will get the better of him and he will give in.

It didn't take long at all and the back of the cart exploded with colorful swirls and flashes. The children cheered excitedly, jumping up and down as we rode away; Gandalf and Frodo laughed loudly as we continued on our way, but all too soon it seemed Frodo had to go.

"Gandalf, Arya," Frodo stood on the cart, "I'm glad you are back." He jumped off and waved.

"So am I, dear boy," Gandalf and I waved back and Frodo headed into the trees with a spring in his step. "So am I," Gandalf added quietly glancing around with nostalgia.

"Well, my friend," I smiled at the wizard as we continued up the hill to Bilbo's residence. "Time to see the old troublemaker. Gods give me patience," I looked at the looming home in chagrin.

"I'm sure he still remembers your explosive temper," Gandalf chuckled at my scowl. "You're not exactly the epitome of patience and serenity, Arya." He stopped his horse and stepped down from his cart as I dismounted and bid Grey Wind to stay where he was. The destrier neighed and bobbed his head up and down, as I loosened the saddle and fished out a treat.

Once Gandalf and I were both done and ready, we headed for the door with a large sign of 'No admittance, except on party business.'

* * *

**Hello, hello. This is an old story that I've started a couple of years ago but quickly lost interest in; I've found it recently and re-read my notes, before deciding to post it anyway. This is one of my most ambitious projects, as in the plans this was part of a few stories that detailed different parts of Arya's life. This is actually the last part in the planned series, but since this was the most worked on, I decided to write this and see ow it goes.**

**Please review and tell me what you think. All your comments and input will help me to improve the story and give me ideas of how to continue.**

**Thank you for reading**

**Lia**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Trouble brewing in the quiet water.**

The unassuming little house that belonged to one and only Bilbo Baggins was a homely and spacious Hobbit-hole, the bane of my and anyone taller than a hobbit's existence. The inviting green door still bore the scratches Gandalf made for the 13 dwarves and I and I thought that Bilbo secretly liked the idea of a reminder of the great adventure, despite his numerous rebukes about the appearance of his house being tarnished.

As Gandalf and I made our way up the short number of small steps to the front door, I took a good look around the small front yard – a very well kept space I was sure Bilbo took pride in, after all his maps and books of course. The flowers and manicured lawn were still the same as they were the last time I visited and didn't show any signs of being changed any time soon. A remarkable feat, considering the ever changing world; but then again, those were the hobbits we were talking about. Nothing ever changed in Shire and the Hobbits liked it that way. They only let things affect them as much as they chose. A trait I largely admired.

While I was daydreaming, Gandalf used his staff to knock on the door and was waiting patiently for Bilbo to come answer. There was a ringing silence inside the house for a moment or two after which a very annoyed voice of the owner told us in no uncertain terms, "No, thank you!"

My eyebrows involuntarily lifted and I fought an urge to laugh at Gandalf's own expression. Meanwhile the voice continued, coming from somewhere deep within the house but gradually coming closer.

"We don't want any more visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!" Gandalf chuckled and leaned on his staff.

"What about very old friends?" he called out and not a moment later Bilbo was peeking through the door before opening it slowly. He stared at us in disbelief for a moment as if not sure if we were really standing on his porch.

"Gandalf?" his eyes travelled to me and back to Gandalf, before a wide smile broke out on his wrinkled face and he hurried forward. "Gandalf! Arya!"

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf smiled and opened his arms wide in invitation that Bilbo was fast in accepting.

"My dearest Gandalf!" the old wizard had to kneel to be able to hug the little hobbit and I held his staff for him while they did.

"It's good to see you," Gandalf rubbed the hobbit's back before Bilbo turned to me. I chuckled at his excited expression and followed Gandalf's example. Bilbo gave me a hearty hug, which I was glad to return; an embrace from a hobbit would by far be the most sincere and heartfelt. "One hundred and eleven years, who would believe it?" Gandalf looked Bilbo over closely. "You haven't aged a day!"

We paused and looked at each other and before long we were laughing loudly. Bilbo patted my shoulder and ran into his hobbit-hole, opening the door wide for us.

"Come in, come in!" Bilbo held the door, inviting us inside with a bow and flourish. I followed Gandalf inside as the wizard removed his great grey hat and slumped over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. "Welcome, welcome! Ah," once I was over the threshold, Bilbo closed the door, "here we are."

I surveyed the cluttered entrance hall with fondness. The warm wooden floors and crème walls created a very peaceful and welcoming atmosphere, hangers and cupboards completing the lived-in feel of the underground home.

"Tea? Or maybe something a little stronger?" Bilbo pointed at the chair in the corner where I could drop my bags and weapons and took the towering wizard's hat and staff. I hid a smile as Bilbo maneuvered the staff around the chandelier under the ceiling to avoid hitting it and scampered off to the coat racks at the far wall. "I've got a few bottles of the Old Winyard left! 1296, a very good year; it's almost as old as I am!"

Gandalf and I ducked under the chandelier to follow after the hobbit as he ran up a hallway his voice trailing behind him in his excitement. "It was laid down by my father, what say we open one, eh? I know you, Arya, will appreciate this one!"

Gandalf looked back at me while I navigated my way carefully through the tiny cramped space to head up another hallway and to the kitchen where Bilbo had undoubtedly disappeared to. "Just tea, thank you," he called out to the hobbit, trying to stop the creation of a feast that was sure to happen – that was the norm among the hobbits when welcoming a guest in their house. As I ducked into the hallway I heard a crash behind me and turned around to see Gandalf stopping the swaying chandelier, before ducking under it, turning around to go after me and suddenly hitting his head on the top of the doorjamb. I coughed to hide a laugh and Gandalf glared at me darkly, prompting me to burst into laughter; he didn't stay mad and chuckled himself while rubbing his head.

"I was expecting you two sometime last week. Not that it matters; you come and go as you please." Bilbo's voice continued from somewhere in the house he'd disappeared to. Gandalf and I came into the parlor where every available surface was covered with heaps of parchments and old books. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace and despite the havoc in the room I found that I liked it immensely; it looked like a tornado had hit it, but there was something endearing in the complete disorganization – something that I could definitely relate to, being far from a neat person myself. "Always have done and always will."

I chuckled at the hobbit's ramblings and took a closer look at the papers on the table; the collection of books and scrolls were random at first glance, but then I pierced a bit of a pattern – it all had to do with travelling and history of the places which meant that Bilbo indeed was planning to go.

"You've caught me a bit unprepared, I'm afraid!" Bilbo continued his one sided conversation with us. "Um, we've only got cold chicken and a bit of pickle. Oh no!" There was some shuffling and clashing in the next room signifying Bilbo rummaging through cupboards and various dishes. "That won't do at all!"

Gandalf followed my lead and picked up a map from the table; it was an old rendition of the Lonely Mountain with the picture of Smaug the dragon over it. I smiled as the memories of the adventure came back to me, leaving me remembering the days past when a merry band of dwarves had barged into a younger Bilbo's life and unceremoniously dragged him off on his first adventure. "We've got raspberry jam, an apple tart," Bilbo continued to list off the items in the pantry, "but we've not much for afters. Ah!" Another crash; Gandalf and I exchanged amused looks and the wizard headed back out the way we'd come in. "We're alright, I've found some sponge cake! I can make some eggs if you…oh," Bilbo came into the room and saw me staring into the fireplace and Gandalf nowhere to be found. "Gandalf?"

I looked up at the hobbit and barely smothered a laugh at the sight of his befuddled expression and Gandalf leaning down into the doorway behind his back with a mischievous expression.

"Just tea, thank you," the wizard bid calmly, remaining the picture of serenity as Bilbo jumped in surprise and turned rapidly to look at him.

"Oh, right," Bilbo looked between Gandalf and me and smiled. "You don't mind if I do?" Bilbo started munching on the cheese he was holding and I took it as my cue to join Gandalf in the kitchen.

The kitchen was just as cluttered as the parlor and one could tell that this was just how Bilbo was; how much of it was Frodo's contribution remained to be seen. The table was already set up with various dishes, every available surface was taken up by different ingredients and spices. The tiny kitchen seemed a little bare, as it lacked the carpets and wall hangings that other rooms had in abundance, but the light and airy room made up for it with the hearth fire at the far wall and the sheer numbers of delicious looking food.

"Not at all," Gandalf smiled at our old friend while I made myself comfortable on the wooden bench that Gandalf was already occupying. Any further conversation was rudely interrupted by loud banging on the front door that sent Bilbo covering against the wall to hide from the view of the windows.

"Bilbo!" Called out an obnoxious demanding voice. "Bilbo Baggins!" The knocking promptly followed, louder than before.

"I'm not at home," Bilbo whispered to us barely audibly before sneaking to the window to have a look at who disturbed the peace in the house. "It's the Sackville-Bagginses."

"I know you're in there!"

"They are after the house!" Bilbo explained for my benefit after he saw my confused expression. "They've never forgiven me for living this long," Bilbo tiptoed back into the kitchen and stood at the end of the table. "I've got to get away from these confounded relatives hanging on the bell all day, never giving me a moment's peace." Bilbo looked out the kitchen window nostalgically, his thoughts far away. "I want to see mountains again. Mountains, Gandalf!" The hobbit turned back to us and watched in interest as the tall wizard struggled to get comfortable in the cramped space of the low table. In the end, Gandalf gave up and took my example, stretching his legs out to the side of the table and sitting sideways on the bench. "And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book. Oh, tea!" Bilbo suddenly exclaimed, remembering what he was going to make us at first. I chuckled and made to get up and help the hobbit with the kettle but he just waved me off.

"So you mean to go through with your plan, then?" Gandalf asked our host as Bilbo poured the water into the pot when I lifted the lid for him.

"Thank you, Arya. Yes, yes, it's all in hand. All the arrangements are made." Bilbo finishes with the pot and I put the lid back as the hobbit returned the kettle back to the fireplace.

"Frodo suspects something, smart lad," I told Bilbo pointedly. He just gave me a look.

"Of course he does! He's a Baggins, not some blockheaded Bracegirdle from Hardbottle," Bilbo told us indignantly. Gandalf and I traded a look as Bilbo perched on the bench opposite us.

"You will tell him, won't you?" Gandalf asked, even though I had a good idea about what was about to transpire; Bilbo will probably go first and leave it to us to deal with his nephew.

"Yes, yes," Bilbo replied absently, likely hardly noticing what was being asked of him as he stared at the window.

"He's very fond of you," Gandalf continued his interrogation while I poured the tea for the three of us and blew on my cup.

"I know." Bilbo suddenly looked very tired. "He'd probably come with me if I asked him to. I think in his heart, Frodo's still in love with the Shire; the woods, the fields and the little rivers." Bilbo turned back to regard us with a heavy gaze that bespoke of his age. "I am old, my friends. Not as old as Arya, of course," we all chuckled at the reminder that I was coming to the point where I would be considered ancient. "I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart." I felt a sharp tug of concern as I watched Bilbo sigh and pick up his cup of tea while fingering something in his waistcoat pocket. I glanced at Gandalf out of the corner of my eyes and saw him watching the hobbit closely as he fidgeted. "I feel thin. Stretched like butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday," Bilbo finally declared with finality. "A very long holiday. I don't expect that I shall return. In fact, I mean not to."

I sighed and shook my head at the hobbit. "You will head to Rivendell, then? When do you leave?"

"Yes, of course," Bilbo smiled fondly at the memory of the great elven city. "Soon, I hope. Within the week."

"I could accompany you," I offered half-heartedly, knowing that he'd probably refuse. "You know the road like the back of your hand, I have no doubt, but a lone hobbit is an easy target on the road."

"Thank you for your concern, my dear Arya. But this leg of my journey I need to complete alone. Besides, I need you to look after Frodo," Bilbo smiled widely at me and I tucked my concern and suspicion away for now to enjoy some time with close friends as we talked about the past and the present, laughing at old jokes and tall tales.

Once the tea was consumed, we relocated to the porch; Gandalf and Bilbo pulled out their pipes and lit them. The sweet and sour smell of tobacco filled the air as they puffed and I vacated the bench to check on the horses and watched the party field below all lit up with lights and hobbits mulling about.

"Old Toby, the finest weed in the Southfarthing," Bilbo declared with a dreamy and content look about him. Gandalf hummed in agreement and watched Bilbo blow out a smoke ring that spread and became bigger as it drifted away. I paused in my fussing with Grey Wind to see Gandalf puff out a smoke ship and send it through the center of Bilbo's ring. "My dear old friends, this will be a night to remember."

_Indeed_, I thought with a smile, content to sit and watch the night unfold.

* * *

**Hello lovely readers. I apologize for the chapters being slow in coming. I want to give the best I can do and as such it requires much time and editing. Also, I hope this time around I will see at least one or two reviews. I need to know your opinions to be able to improve and keep going; your reviews will also encourage me to write more and faster.**

**Please review and I will try to get the new chapter out soon!**

_Thank you for reading,_

_Lia_


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